OTHER VOICES

Florida’s new texting law falls short

By Carl R. RameySpecial to the Star-Banner

Published: Sunday, June 9, 2013 at 6:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Friday, June 7, 2013 at 5:05 p.m.

In a low-key ceremony at a Miami high school, Gov. Rick Scott put his signature on Florida’s new texting law — culminating a longstanding effort in the Florida Legislature to bring our state in line with virtually every other state in the nation. Indeed, by the time Florida took action, 45 of 50 states had already limited texting in some respect (talk about “leading from behind”).

A time for rejoicing? Hardly.

In the first place, texting while driving isn’t even a primary motor vehicle offense under the new law. It’s merely a secondary offense, which can only come into play when a motorist is caught in the act of committing what is, presumably, a more important traffic infraction.

The “offense” is further minimized by the Legislature’s decision to set the penalty at a paltry $30, about 1/14th the penalty for getting trapped in Waldo’s infamous and highly questionable “school zone,” and only a fraction of what a seat-belt citation costs ($104). As matters now stand, you can be stopped for failing to wear a seat belt, which only affects you, but not for texting, which endangers others.

In short, under the pretense of improving roadway safety, Florida’s Legislature — which has a long history of resisting action in this area — has essentially given texting addicts a green light to continue their hazardous habits. Why stop or why worry? The likelihood of receiving a citation is extremely remote and the penalty inconsequential.

Let’s be clear. The new law deals only with written communication — i.e., manually sending or reading information using a wireless device, conduct associated with texting, emailing and instant messaging. It does not include voice communication on a cellphone or using a navigation device. While these other practices also can be dangerous while driving, nothing approaches the degree of inattention (hence danger) associated with texting. It’s an activity, research shows, that can adversely impact one’s consciousness and focus just as much as driving drunk (a condition some researchers refer to as “inattention blindness”).

Given the overwhelming public support for banning texting, why, one must ask, did we get such a timid, belated response from Florida’s lawmakers? As usual, the answer seems to lie in uncommon fealty to political ideology. Both Scott and GOP legislative leaders have long defended inaction in this area by contending that it would unduly impede personal liberty (apparently, the freedom to drive recklessly on public highways). For example, just last November, House Speaker Will Weatherford was quoted as saying, “Equally as important as our safety are our individual rights, and in the case of texting while driving, there should be no exception.”

Really? If you wanted a law likely to exalt a single individual’s personal freedom over the safety of the entire driving public, this is it. Not only does the law fail to discourage texting (owing to weak standards and trivial penalties), it makes enforcement nearly impossible. Only if texting leads to an actual crash resulting in death or personal injury would police and prosecutors be able to use cellphone records as evidence. Otherwise, anyone ever questioned about texting (once they’re stopped for something else) can simply deny doing so. End of story.

In sum, Florida’s new law is weak, impractical and badly off the mark. Obviously, you can’t eliminate all egregious and dangerous behavior, but clearly more is needed. Tough texting measures don’t strip anyone of their right to use any device or communicate any information. Rather, like posted speed limits, they only limit reckless conduct while traveling on public roads, not while pulled over.

Recently, AT&T, Verizon and other major telecommunications companies announced a joint national advertising campaign to highlight the dangers of texting while driving. If the makers of these devices understand the dangers and perceive a need to warn the public, why can’t Florida’s lawmakers treat the issue with the same degree of seriousness?

<p>In a low-key ceremony at a Miami high school, Gov. Rick Scott put his signature on Florida's new texting law — culminating a longstanding effort in the Florida Legislature to bring our state in line with virtually every other state in the nation. Indeed, by the time Florida took action, 45 of 50 states had already limited texting in some respect (talk about “leading from behind”).</p><p>A time for rejoicing? Hardly.</p><p>In the first place, texting while driving isn't even a primary motor vehicle offense under the new law. It's merely a secondary offense, which can only come into play when a motorist is caught in the act of committing what is, presumably, a more important traffic infraction.</p><p>The “offense” is further minimized by the Legislature's decision to set the penalty at a paltry $30, about 1/14th the penalty for getting trapped in Waldo's infamous and highly questionable “school zone,” and only a fraction of what a seat-belt citation costs ($104). As matters now stand, you can be stopped for failing to wear a seat belt, which only affects you, but not for texting, which endangers others.</p><p>In short, under the pretense of improving roadway safety, Florida's Legislature — which has a long history of resisting action in this area — has essentially given texting addicts a green light to continue their hazardous habits. Why stop or why worry? The likelihood of receiving a citation is extremely remote and the penalty inconsequential.</p><p>Let's be clear. The new law deals only with written communication — i.e., manually sending or reading information using a wireless device, conduct associated with texting, emailing and instant messaging. It does not include voice communication on a cellphone or using a navigation device. While these other practices also can be dangerous while driving, nothing approaches the degree of inattention (hence danger) associated with texting. It's an activity, research shows, that can adversely impact one's consciousness and focus just as much as driving drunk (a condition some researchers refer to as “inattention blindness”).</p><p>Given the overwhelming public support for banning texting, why, one must ask, did we get such a timid, belated response from Florida's lawmakers? As usual, the answer seems to lie in uncommon fealty to political ideology. Both Scott and GOP legislative leaders have long defended inaction in this area by contending that it would unduly impede personal liberty (apparently, the freedom to drive recklessly on public highways). For example, just last November, House Speaker Will Weatherford was quoted as saying, “Equally as important as our safety are our individual rights, and in the case of texting while driving, there should be no exception.”</p><p>Really? If you wanted a law likely to exalt a single individual's personal freedom over the safety of the entire driving public, this is it. Not only does the law fail to discourage texting (owing to weak standards and trivial penalties), it makes enforcement nearly impossible. Only if texting leads to an actual crash resulting in death or personal injury would police and prosecutors be able to use cellphone records as evidence. Otherwise, anyone ever questioned about texting (once they're stopped for something else) can simply deny doing so. End of story.</p><p>In sum, Florida's new law is weak, impractical and badly off the mark. Obviously, you can't eliminate all egregious and dangerous behavior, but clearly more is needed. Tough texting measures don't strip anyone of their right to use any device or communicate any information. Rather, like posted speed limits, they only limit reckless conduct while traveling on public roads, not while pulled over.</p><p>Recently, AT&T, Verizon and other major telecommunications companies announced a joint national advertising campaign to highlight the dangers of texting while driving. If the makers of these devices understand the dangers and perceive a need to warn the public, why can't Florida's lawmakers treat the issue with the same degree of seriousness?</p><p><i>Carl R. Ramey, a former Washington, D.C., communications attorney, lives in Gainesville.</i></p>